Disclaimer: I do NOT own Red Dead Redemption. Celia Ross is my OC character so I am taking claim to her.
WARNING: This first chapter includes scenes that have been altered because of my OC's appearance. Also, this is rated mature due to violence and other things that will be revealed in later chapters. You have been warned! :)
Author's note: This is my first Red Dead Redemption fan fic and I'm pretty excited about it. By the way, I know there is some kind of thing also titled Red Dead Retaliation, but just so you know this story has nothing to do with it. Anyways, please enjoy and don't forget to review . . . if it's just to tell me if you liked it or not or give me some feedback on what I could improve. Thanks! :)
I was sitting in the house practicing my sewing. It wasn't a fun hobby for me, but my mother had always wanted me to learn. My thin fingers were far too nervous and I pricked my finger. I gasped at the tiny sting and watched tip of my finger where a spec of blood appeared. I sucked on the wound for a moment, losing all interest as I heard the sound of galloping hooves drawing near.
I jumped up from my bed and peered out the window viewing the porch where my dear mother sat on the wooden bench. It was too early for Papa to return from his hunting trip with Uncle Phillip. As suspected, I saw an unfamiliar palomino horse approach the house, I didn't recognize the rider either. As he got closer and came to a stop in the yard, I noticed his long, shaggy hair hidden under an old leather hat. He was dressed like one of those cowboys and decorated with several guns. The stranger was quiet as he dismounted and walked toward the porch. From behind the glass, I couldn't help but notice his dark eyes. I had to admit, he made me a little nervous.
"Excuse me, ma'am." The stranger finally said.
"Hello young man." My mother greeted him politely. He replied with a quick hi.
"What are you doing out here? Are you out visiting the lake with your family?" Mama continued.
"No, ma'am. I was looking to deliver a letter to Edgar Ross." The younger man responded very officially. From his words, I figured he was another man from the bureau where my father had worked for many years before he'd finally retired. We'd seen them come by several times since then, still bothering my Papa when he was trying to live out the rest of his days peacefully. My mother obviously felt the same way.
"Oh, that husband of mine. That bureau just won't get its talons out of him, even though he's retired." She began. After a pause she stood and stepped to the side where she was almost out of my view. "Edgar gave them some of the best years of his life, they oughtta let him retire in peace. They'll not rest until they've killed him with worry and he's such a sensitive man."
I could sense the frustration in Mama's voice. All she wanted was for Papa to be happy, and the bureau should want the same. My father had brought many men to justice and had probably saved the lives of many people. Only three years ago he'd brought down several men from a vicious gang. They were murderers and my father did the right thing by ending their cold-blooded lives.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't get so angry. I don't suppose any of this is your fault." My mother apologized as she returned to her seat on the bench. The stranger just listened quietly. "There's no need to worry about him nowadays."
"Well where is he?" The man asked curiously, a bit of persistence in his voice.
"He and his brother, Phillip, went hunting on the south side of the San Luis River. Be careful crossing over, they were saying it was dangerous." Mama warned, remembering Papa and Uncle Phillip's words. I could tell she was worried for them, she always worried about my father.
"I sure will, ma'am. And don't worry about a thing. I'm sure your husband will be just fine." The stranger replied, his last sentence only made my nervousness grow. Something about him just seemed wrong.
My bad feeling was only confirmed true as the man stepped onto the porch and withdrew a revolver. He aimed it at my mother's head and she gasped. My body froze over with shock.
"No." I whispered.
Her aged eyes stared into the glass to me, I saw her fear. The man must have noticed because his dark eyes darted to me. My breath hitched as I realized that he had seen me and was watching me.
"Whoever's in there, get out here now!" He demanded, nodding outside. I was still frozen. When I didn't respond he aimed his gun to the side of my mother's face and she began to cry. "Come out or I'll shoot!" He warned. The look he gave me told me that he really would.
I forced myself toward the door, trying to keep my nervous feet from steeping on my yellow skirt. Walking past the door was like walking out of a protection barrier and into 'no man's land'. I instantly felt my heart begin to pound louder and louder, my body trembling. It took all my courage to look the man in the eye. At first, his eyes were angry and mean. Then, the coldness melted from his face and he almost looked as if he'd been startled. I didn't understand this, a seventeen year old girl was nothing to be afraid of that's for sure.
"On your knees." He ordered, but I could sense a difference in his voice. Still, it made me no less afraid.
"Please. Please, don't do this." I begged timidly.
"GET ON YOUR KNEES!" He shouted impatiently. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I held up my hands in defense and slowly lowered myself to my knees. He released my mother and she slumped down on the porch. The man started towards me and my horrified mother inched toward him
"No. Please, leave my daughter be." My mother begged, but the man ignored her. He was standing over me now, staring me down,
"You Edgar Ross's daughter?" He questioned me. My lips quivered as I struggled to speak.
"Y-Yes." I stuttered nervously.
He responded by kneeling in front of me and grabbing my wrists and holding them together with one hand while he got his rope from his belt and tied them together. I was too terrified to resist him, but continued to cry.
"Please, leave her alone. Whatever your business is with my husband, she has nothing to do with it." Mama tried to plead again, she was close enough that she placed her hand onto the man's shoulder. As if this would persuade him. Instead, he withdrew his revolver again and turned to her with it again.
"Get back! Sit down!" He shouted at her. Mama did as she was told and sat back onto the bench. Then, she held her face in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably.
The man turned back to me as he stood up, dragging me to my feet as well. He spun me around to face the porch steps and pressed the barrel of his gun to my back.
"Move." He growled, the meanness returned to his voice. Afraid of what he might do if I hesitated again, He stepped off the porch and continued walking towards his horse.
"Please! She's just a girl." I heard my mother cry out. I looked back to see her staring at the young man with pleading eyes. He did the same.
"If you ever wanna see her alive again, I suggest you stay put and shut up." Were his last words to her and he urged me forward again.
My mother's sobbing went on as I was picked up from behind and thrown onto the stallion's back. He raised his head and snorted in response to my light weight. Then, the man mounted up behind me, pushing me forward in the seat so that we both fit in the saddle. I cringed as his chest was pressed into my back and his arms went around me so he could take the reins.
Without warning, my kidnapper spurred the horse and it pitched at the sudden contact before galloping up the hill and away from the house. My bound hands gripped the saddle horn for dear life as I did not expect that this man would care if I went face-first onto the ground.
I was so relieved that he had not harmed my mother, but I couldn't help being afraid for my own life now and my father's as well. The only thing my racing mind could think of was that this was a ransom and he was expecting my father would pay a great amount of cash to get me back. Though my family had had it easier than most, we weren't rich. Papa wouldn't be able to pay the ransom if that were the case, and I was probably about to die. The realization of this made my tears flood my blue eyes again. I didn't even get to say good-bye to Mama, nor had I the chance to tell her that I loved her one last time.
"Quit that cryin'! I haven't killed you yet, have I?" My captor shouted above the sound of the horse's hooves. I tried to stop, I really did. I was too upset and too afraid to keep my sobs at bay. When he realized that I just couldn't help it, not another word was said. We rode on into the direction of the Mexican boarder. At least, I might see my Papa once more before this man killed me.